


Magic's Reprise

by Stafngrimr793



Series: Stories from Stafngrimr [6]
Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:24:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stafngrimr793/pseuds/Stafngrimr793
Summary: An alternative timeline starting in 812 AF, a few years after the end of Magic's Price. It is early in the reign of Treven and Jisa.The Vrondi are watching for magic use in Valdemar, but are not yet fully in practice. Stavenar, an Adept from across the western sea comes to Valdemar to offer his services. He has scryed some about them and was intrigued. He senses the Vrondi watching him, but as his magics are small, the sensation is unsettling, but not maddening.Tantras has become head of the Heraldic Circle, Arved is still Seneschal and Duke Oden is now Lord Marshal. A few other survivors of Magic's Price will show up as the story progresses.





	1. Stavenar Arrives

Magic’s Reprise  
812 AF  
Reign of Treven and Jisa  
(An alternate timeline)

Chapter One - Stavenar Arrives

Stavenar was a bit reluctant to leave the comfort of his hidey hole. He’d made it in the base of a hedgerow as an overnight sleeping shelter. It was safe and warm, in the face of the chill air of the early fall morning.

He was well rested, even though a Feeling as if something was watching him, many somethings actually, hung over his head like a weight about to drop. But his Senses could not See anything clearly, feeling only a vague collection of energies around him. The feeling had started soon after he crossed the border of Valdemar. He did not feel any hostility, only curiosity, and thus did not try and banish it.

He dismissed the minor warming spell that made sleep comfortable, and set about gathering himself for the day. He decided to leave the nest as it was, perhaps some animal would be able to use it as a den in the coming winter. He sensed no traces of his energies.

He expended a little energy to heat the jug of tea and packet of sausage rolls, which were part of the journey food he’d gotten at the inn where had had stayed.

His three month walk along Exile’s Road from when he had crossed Lake Evendim and arrived in the town of Zoc, until now, was almost over. He had spent a few days here and there, not minding the long walk, for it afforded him a better chance at learning about Valdemar, its people, customs and dialects.

That information had not come in the scrying that had caused him to journey for most of two years across land and sea. But he had sensed enough to not try a Gate from the far side of the Lake into the country.

From his conversations during a three day stop in Hall, he knew he should only be a couple of Marks away from the outskirts of Haven. From what he had heard during his long walk, Stavenar knew to expect Heralds and their Companions. He also knew to expect little to no magic, and some presence of mind powers.

He sent out tendrils of Thought and Sight, sighing with relief that no one with magical or mind abilities was within range, just that uncomfortable feeling of being watched.

After breaking his night’s fast, he set his shields in such a manner that only the most attentive Adept would see anything but a traveling peddler hunched under his pack, walking along the side of the road.

About halfway to Haven, he stepped off the side of the road, sensing a pair of beings approaching. A ringing, as of bells, reached his ears.

A beautiful, white, horse shaped being, bearing an unassuming looking young man dressed in white approached. Stavenar let his passive receptors read them as they passed…one of the Guardian Spirit Companions with its human Herald aboard. He smiled as the Companion trotted by without much pause. Her human burden looked to be fully asleep in the saddle.

The mare, he saw as she passed, hesitated only a couple of steps as she drew abreast of him. Then she shook her head, as if clearing cob webs from her mind and trotted off to the west.

Stavenar was glad he passed this self-imposed test. He had wondered if his ability to hide would match the ability of Companions to sense.

Once the Companion and her sleeping burden passed from sight, he took to the road again.

After several marks, Stavenar saw Haven in True Sight for the first time. It was much more impressive than Scry Sight had shown. He deemed it of a size, near to his home city of West Springfield. He stood to observe the flow of traffic in and out of the western gate.

After a half mark, he approached the city.

The guards at the western gate, paid no attention to the lone man who walked past them as they tried to sort out a caravan that had become jumbled on the grounds just outside the west walls.

Stavenar smiled with sympathy as the soldiers tried to sort out the men and mules. He’d been born the son of a drayman and had lived the life until Master Adalbert had found him tending mules at his family’s warehouse.

As it was just High Noon, he decided to press on to the Palace, which should be at the center of the city, instead of seeking quarters for the night. He paused only to buy a roll, cheese and a jug of small ale from a street vendor.

He took in with an appreciative eye the way that no road ran straight to the palace. He silently commended the builders who obviously had defense in mind.

To get a better sense of the city, he partially lowered his shields.

A couple of marks later, Stavenar saw that the quality of the buildings had increased and traffic in the streets had decreased. He figured that he was now surrounded by the higher classes of society, the palace should be close at hand.

Rounding a corner, Stavenar found himself several dozen paces from a taller, defensive wall. The gate before him was heavily manned by soldiers clad in dark blue uniforms.

“_I have arrived_.” He thought, and then paused to observe the gate routine.

After a mark, Stavenar walked up to the gate guard.

“Good morrow, good sir,” he said, addressing one of the gate guards, “I am Stavenar Ollirsson, an adept mage. I have come to offer my services to your king. Please, send for someone who can judge the truth of my offer.”

The guard corporal stared at him, mouth agape, until one of the privates nudged him in the ribs.

“Beg pardon, sir,” he asked, “you are what!?”

Stavenar smiled at the younger man, “I am an adept mage, come from afar, to offer my services to your king. I shall wait right here until you can get someone who can say yea or nay.”

The gate sergeant, unsure of what to do, sent for his captain.

The captain listens to Stavenar’s explanation and request. He then sends a runner off to find a Herald, which he explains can judge. Stavenar cheerfully agrees and sits, his back to the outside wall of the palace by the gate.

“Sir, this is Herald Tyrnan,” said the gate captain, “He will speak with you.”

Stavenar turned to look, stood and was delighted to see a white clad older man, which was his expectation of a Herald, likely more seasoned in his duties and powers than the young man who he had seen that morning.

“Good afternoon, I am Herald Tyrnan.” The man’s voice was gruff, but neutral in tone, “Captain Long says you want to be of aid to the king, and claim to be an Adept Mage? You don’t look like one of the Hawkbrothers, nor from one of the neighboring countries where magic is used?”

“Good afternoon Herald Tyrnan, I am Stavenar Ollirsson, from very far to the west of Valdemar.” He replied, “I saw in my Scrying Stone that a kingdom far to the east of where I was born and trained might need my help.”

“I know magic exists, but I am not a Herald-Mage…perhaps the King’s Own can evaluate you?”

Stavenar was almost blinded by the Light of a being who silently approached as he spoke with Tyrnan.

:_I am Myrgrim_,: he heard in his mind, :_and I am considering Choosing you, Stavenar_.:

Tyrnan was included in this announcement, and looked stunned.

Stavenar was likewise stunned, never thinking any Guardian would take an interest in him, save as a possible problem. The glare dwindled quickly until he saw before him a large white stallion. He found the Companion’s sky blue eyes to be of great fascination and felt a sensation of deep, honest friendship. Myrgrim nodded his head, breaking the awestruck moment.

:_My friend, Myrgrim_,: he replied, :_I am stunned by your acceptance_.:

“Tyrnan, I am given to understand that these Companions Choose well?”

“Yes,” said the Herald.

:_Yes, go with Tyrnan, my friend_,: said Myrgrim, :_talk to the King and others of the Circle. I will talk with my fellow Companions_.: Myrgrim backed away, turned and trotted off towards a lane around the side of the palace.

Tyrnan frowned for a moment, as if someone was shoving thoughts in his head.

“Stavenar, I would like to cast a Truth Spell on you.” The Herald said, “My Companion Willa reminds me that we have had some dangers the past several years, particularly a rogue magician, and I must be sure before I let you go any further, even with the possible Choosing by a Companion in your favor. This spell will only allow you to tell the truth.”

Stavenar had no hesitation, and lowered his shields completely, “Please, do so.”

As Tyrnan conjured something up, Stavenar felt an intensification of the Watchers. He thought it odd, but appropriate, that the Heralds would call on the same creatures to detect lies.

Tyrnan and the Guards watched as a blue glow settled over Stavenar’s head and shoulders. The Herald thought the Vrondi to be a denser presence than usual, which indicated that the man might be telling the truth.

“Just a few questions,” he started, “Are you a Mage Adept? Are you really from far to the west? Are you really here to offer your service to the king?”

Stavenar answered all three in the affirmative.

The glow stayed strong. Tyrnan dismissed the spell, and was a little surprised to see a bit of afterglow linger.

“I think we need to see the king and the other members of the Privy Council.” He smiled as Myrgrim trotted away, “Don’t worry, you will have plenty of time with your Companion, should the Choosing become more than a promise.”

Stavenar was a bit shaken, but followed Tyrnan’s lead, though he still felt some “Eyes” upon him.


	2. Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stavenar has his first meeting with the King, and the Privy Council.

Chapter Two - Getting to Know You

As they walked to the Palace proper, Tyrnan asked Stavenar about himself.

The mage admitted to a mastery of building Gates and shields, having the ability to sense the energies used in magic, being a conduit of energies as an aid to spell work, being able to work some small, useful magic (fire starting, warming, minor healing…), Farseeing, plus some ability at Mind Speech.

When Tyrnan asked him why he did not Gate into Haven, Stavenar replied that doing such would be rude at best and thought an attack at worst. Also, there was no place specific he could visualize well enough close to, or in, Haven for such to be safe.

“Plus, when a Gate is dismissed, the energies can adversely affect weather patterns at both ends.”

He tells Tyrnan of his origins across the western sea, that he is 37 years old, about how his mentor found him in his parents’ warehouse one day, trained him up, emphasizing putting his abilities at the disposal of those who needed help, and how his scrying for a people who could use his help had led him to Valdemar.

He also tells of how his journey took the better part of 2 years.

He also sensed that Tyrnan was making more of a walk than was really necessary in order to get information.

Guards waved them by into the Palace proper when they recognized Tyrnan.

Stavenar got the feeling that there was a vast power within the palace, not of human or Companion origin. He also felt the energies going out like the threads in a great web that felt of humans and Companions.

Tyrnan led the way down several corridors to an iron strapped oak door.

“This is the king’s private office,” he said, “he is in there as well as the Monarch’s Own, the head of the Heraldic circle and a few others.”

To Stavenar’s puzzled look, “You’ll learn our ways and society quick enough I think.”

The Herald opened the door, bowing the visitor in and closing it behind them.

Stavenar saw four men and a woman dressed in similar white uniforms, one of the men was distinguished by a small gold circlet around his head. There was also an elderly man in plain dress and one in the blue uniform he now associated with the Guard.

“Your majesty,” he said, going to one knee with his head bowed, “I am grateful for this audience and present myself for your consideration.”

“Trevan, this is Stavenar Ollirsson, who says he is from across the western sea. Myrgrim is considering Choosing him.” He heard Tyrnan say.

There was a brief silence, “Interesting, wonder why he did not inform Eren or Taver? Stand up Stavenar, and all take a seat.”

Stavenar wondered for a moment who these other persons were, then thought, the King’s Companion and another Guardian Spirit most likely. He also wondered why Myrgrim kept the possible Choosing, which he still did not understand, to himself.

“In private like this, Stavenar, we use no titles.” Spoke Trevan, “Now the introductions…you’ll learn the significance of the titles and offices over time.” gesturing to the woman sitting by his right, “This is my wife Jisa, our Queen Consort. She is the Monarch’s Own Herald, and my closest advisor.”

“My Lady, I pledge to you that my intentions are honest and honorable.” She replied with a smile that not only reached her eyes, but animated her face. It was a good face, he thought.

Motioning to an elderly man to his left, “This weathered being is Arved, who was Seneschal to my father and holds that position of trust for me.”

The much older man bowed from where he was sitting. “Welcome to Valdemar Stavenar.”

“Thank you Milord Seneschal.”

Trevan smiled, “Next to Arved is Joshel, Herald to the Seneschal.”

“Pleased to meet you Herald Joshel.”

“Tis part of my job to take a rain check on that pleasure, but welcome.” The older Herald said with a smile.

“Next to them is Duke Oden, who is Lord Martial, and Herald Ældwyn, his chief adviser. Oden is commander of the army, which we call the Guard. Valdemar will never be the aggressor in war, but will be dogged and determined in defense.”

Stavenar bowed from his seat, “Your Grace, my own people have a similar ethic. Herald Ældwyn, my respects.”

“Sitting next to Jisa is Tantras, who has been saddled with being head of the Heraldic Circle, as well as other duties.” The king finished, “After we have some refreshments and some idle chatter, I will turn you over to him.”

“For a much more thorough interview, I’d guess,” the mage replied with a smile. “I’d hope that Myrgrim’s interest in me will be in my favor.”

“I should think it will, and Tyrnan putting you under the Truth Spell at the gate will also.” Trevan paused in a manner Stavenar noticed the Heralds did when their Companions were Mind Speaking them. “Eren, who is my Companion just told me that he and Taver, who is Jisa’s, have spoken to Myrgrim. Their consensus, as the closest we have to Companion chieftains, is that you are who and what you claim. Plus they trust that the Why of your journey is likewise to be taken as truth.”

The king rang a bell that sat on the small table next to his chair. The door to the office opened and pages brought in trays of finger food, wine bottles and goblets.

Tyrnan acted as butler after the children left, and made sure everyone had wine and a small plate of food. After the king saw that all had partaken of both he said; “We know that the western sea exists, but not how wide it is, nor that there are populated lands beyond.”

“The sea itself is 6 moons across by swift sailing vessel, my own voyage took 8. My homeland is about 3 moons horseback ride from the eastern shore of that landmass. The western shore is about 5 months horseback ride from there. The land goes about 6 months ride north and a year’s ride south.”

He paused to sip from his goblet. “My homeland is called Berkarra, and the place where I grew up is called West Springfield in the Earldom of Long Meadow. My home town is about as large as Haven, though not so well built.”

“How so?” asked Duke Oden.

“War has not been seen in our lands for several 100’s of years, so the growth of the city has been a bit haphazard in the 400 years since the area was first settled.”

“Is there then a general peace with your neighbor countries?”

“I think it is more that West Springfield is a month’s ride from the nearest border, which is to the east, and we are indeed at peace with that neighbor, the Grand Duchy of Alnwick. Berkarra takes up a large part of the central plains and woodlands of Ercia, which is what we call our northern part of the landmass.”

Trevan interjected, “Northern part?”

“Yes, Ercia basically ends when the landmass necks down to an isthmus connecting it to the southern part, Annær. The isthmus is 3 days ride across for most of its length and is 2 months ride from Mercia’s southernmost point to Annær’s northernmost.”

“My homeland of Berkarra is 2 ½ months east to west and 3 months north to south. Our other neighbors are not so pacific as Alnwick, but have neither the manpower, nor resources to be more than a bloody nuisance.”

Jisa spoke up, “You have the use of true magic, would that not cause an imbalance?”

“The Adepts of Ercia have a very strict code of conduct they follow, part of which is to never use combat magics unless they are personally attacked.” Stavenar replied, “Once in a while a rogue mage will be found using their abilities in a proscribed manner, but they rarely survive for long.”

Joshel spoke up for the first time, “Do you know the origin of these proscriptions?”

“My mentor, Master Adalbert told me that in our tradition,” he took another sip of wine, “there were great storms containing wild magic almost eighteen centuries ago. Magic did not work as well then as now, strange beings were made within circles of this wild magic, the natural flow of energies within the land was disrupted. As magic was once again harnessed, the Adepts of about fourteen centuries ago came to the conclusion that a great war had occurred, where magics were used as great weapons. The Rule was then made to not repeat the projected effect such loosing of Power would have.”

“I have read in the oldest Chronicles that are in Valdemar’s hand about a Great War that happened about 1000 years before this land was settled.” Said Ældwyn, “It was speculated that the ruling class of the Eastern Empire, from which Valdemar and his people fled, may have descended from folks caught up by that war.”


End file.
